SOTL: Gathering an Army
by Odd'n'Old Scrybbles
Summary: The rewrite of Shepard of the Lost: Gathering an Army. Shepard finds himself lost after the war, until he finds himself saving lives once more. [Papa Shepard]


A/N: Hello Everyone! Glad to see you either decided to come back around or just beginning these adventures. I'm sorry about the first one, both the first posting of this chapter and of the first try at this story. School got in the way for the story, and gave me tons of new ideas, annnnnd... voice recognition software stinks when you talk too fast. So, I have fixed it and did some changes.

Hope you like it!

Odd'n'Old Scrybbles

**A. Gathering an Army**

**POV John Shepard**

**Year. 2183 - 2186**

He had three choices.

The catalyst stood before him, having explained in great detail, the three ways to end this war.

Control: he could control the reapers, surrendering his body and soul. But the action wasn't definitive. The Reapers could enslave him instead, like they had the illusive man.

Destruction: the catalyst didn't think this one would work, or did he not want it to work? Destroy the reapers, which is what they'd been working for, what Anderson had been fighting for, had died for. But at what cost?

Synthesis: use himself to blend synthetics and the organics. What was the reason? Why would the catalyst want this choice? Would the organics have free will? Or would there be takeover of a race that would now know how organics think?

He didn't like his choices.

He wouldn't sacrifice the Geth, he couldn't sacrifice EDI – he didn't need to.

He made a choice, one he didn't want to make.

The Reapers would survive. He hoped whatever was used for his sacrifice would save the galaxy a continuation of the war.

The war needed to end – they needed it to end.

Shepard dropped his gun and rushed forward as much as his pained body would allow. The green glow caused his blue eyes to squint as he leapt into the light. What happened wasn't what the catalyst, and what he, expected.

As he flew forward an explosion blew from the beam of green synthetic light, knocking him back onto the hard metal for. And in the place he had been standing, where he had leapt from stood a man, one that looked a lot like him.

Glowing red eyes met his for a mere moment.

"Good luck hero," with a mischievous grin, the man fell back into the light and the catalyst exploded.

0N70

Blue eyes opened and the world around him was stark and fuzzy. Shepard hurt everywhere, his body aching, his skin burning, his bones shattered and broken.

The sounds of his surroundings were full of screams that echoed pain in his ears. He could hear the sirens in the street, he could hear the movement of people, but he couldn't move.

There was something more; a tremor beneath him as if there was a large weight moving across the ground. He couldn't see, not very well, but he could hear the sounds of the whine coming from large mechanical objects. He recognized the sound as that of large mechanical sentient beings – Reapers.

So they really had survived. But were they going to attack again? Now would be the best time, as the organic races were weak from a war that had battered and bruised them, that had taken so much. But he didn't hear running and screams of panic, he heard movement and he heard survivors.

Even if the reapers seem to be helping, they couldn't bring back the likes they'd taken. They couldn't bring back the lives lost in this war. Shepard had no reason to believe he'd done the right thing, and his thoughts seem to be as pessimistic as he was.

Shepard was brought back from his thoughts as something moved him. He winced as a shock of pain sifted through him, the rubble over him moving. When the movement stopped, Shepard sunk back into his mind again.

What was the reason for his continued existence? He'd saved the galaxy, or condemned them. He didn't have a reason to keep going. He'd proven himself, he'd proven the human race, he'd done his bit; what more could life have in store for him?

The rubble shifted once again, and Shepard once more let himself focus on the movement. The rubble shifted just enough so that his face was visible to the bright blinding light of the sun shining through dark clouds. His weak eyes closed abruptly, the light too bright for his damaged eyes to take. They opened slowly when he'd braced himself against the pain.

Above him, a face appeared. An old woman with fluffy white hair and wrinkles dressed in the civilian clothing fitted to those who work with the Alliance stared down at him with eyes that seemed amused to see him. Shepard wanted to pout as the woman took amusement in what she found.

"My, my, what a mess Dearie. You look like you've been hell and back, would you like some help?" She didn't wait for an answer, just kept speaking. "I'll find my son, and we can get you all cleaned up." Shepard didn't like the look in her eyes, like he was a brand-new test subject. That grandmotherly smile didn't help.

Shepard watched as she walked off, not sure whether to be thankful or in total and absolute horror.

He settled his head back against the ground and stared up at the sky. 29 years of life and hell, what more could be thrown at him...

0N70

His mind felt light and empty. His body was numb. He could not feel any pain, and everything around him seemed faded. The lids of his eyes felt heavy, hard to move. The limbs of his body didn't respond to what his mind dictated. He was numb, and his head was in a state it hadn't been in years.

It was glorious; it was peaceful; relaxing and new.

With his brain slow and fuzzy, he didn't question as to why he was awake. His eyes opened slowly, the blue glowed in the faded light. He could barely see the blue gray ceiling, the faded wallpaper, the numerous pictures on the four walls, and he didn't care. The light in the room was dull, but he didn't mind.

He laid in the haze of his mind and body, and enjoyed the sensations of freedom. The world around him slowly dimmed to nothing, and he let it.

0N70

Pain, it wrapped his mind, his body, his senses. He woke to a scream that he didn't know if it was his own. The world around him was narrowed to the pain racking his body; suffocating him, surrounding him, drowning him. His throat wouldn't let any sound escape, dry as it was from his sleep. His silent cry fell on deaf ears as he thrashed and writhed in pain.

The bed he lay on shook with him, the tremors sent it slamming into the wall repeatedly. The house shook and woke the residents that live within. The old women raced in, a man by her side.

This old women had a grin on her face as she spoke to him, "oh dear!" She hurried over to the bedside table, grabbing up a syringe and filling it with the jar beside it. She slid it into his chest directly above his heart and emptied it into his veins. His body arched high off the bed until it settled down to the numbness spreading through him. His teeth gritted together as the last tremors wore off. He skimmed over the two people in the room before his eyes slid shut and he fell asleep again to the sound of the women speaking to him.

"You're almost healed, just wait, and you'll be better than everyone else."

0N70

The last time Shepard had to wake-up confined to a bed, the old lady was already there. He was laid out on his front, spread-eagle across the covers. He could barely focus on anything, but a touch on his calf had a looking over his shoulder. The woman was leaning over him massaging the muscles in his calves. He grunted slightly to let her know he was awake. A single blanket was draped over his ass but that was pretty much all the coverage he had. That was probably all the clothing he'd had the whole time he'd been here.

"Ah, you're awake. I'm working your muscles. They diminished quite a bit during you're stay, and you won't be walking for a few weeks. The synthetics I've implanted should help while your muscles rebuild. Garrett will help with your physical training. Not that you need that now," the woman was smirking, her voice not even trying to contain it. "He should be back soon; he headed out to grab some oil to help with your calves."

If Jack had been here, he was sure that would turn out to be something perverted. But his brain wasn't working and he didn't care. She may have some ulterior motive, but she was helping him, and had been helping him since his crash landing.

"H –"the first syllable out of his mouth had him coughing, his throat dry and unused. The lady got up from where she sat, releasing his leg and going for the water that sat on the nightstand. She rolled him onto his side, and held it to his lips for him to drink. "How long… How long have I been here?" after taking a small sip; his throat hurt anyways from the few words. The lady went back to his leg while she thought about it before answering.

"Nine months," she said after a moment, the grin on her face. "You were a fun project, but it was difficult with the pre-existing synthetics. They were top-of-the-line, but they were damaged and hard to repair." Shepard closed his eyes and tried not to think about what she had done to his body. Would he be more synthetic than organic now? The sound of the door opening brought him from that thought. He looked over his shoulder towards the door, opposite from where the woman sat.

"Is this what you're looking for mom?" The man asked as he took a seat on the other side of the bed. He seemed absolutely undisturbed to see his mother sitting there massaging the muscles in a stranger's leg. The man must've helped the old woman work on his body at least once during the nine months he'd been there. It must have been a normal site, or was he a normal guest now?

"Yes, yes it is," she said, holding out her hand for her son to pour some in. The son did so, then poured some in his own hands, working Shepard's other leg. The son started up a conversation as he worked, not expecting an answer in return.

"You're lucky ma found ya. The Soldiers were so overloaded looking for survivors they didn't bother with the area around the shrapnel that came from the Citadel." Did the son think that his mother had saved his life for his own purpose? Shepard chuckled internally, not sure whether he believed that or not. "You were under a hefty pile of it, figured you'd been in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Were you fighting on the field? We found tags around your neck, but they were burnt black and busted up. We couldn't see the name on it, almost like it had melted."

"You were a mess; skin all covered in ash, hair burned clean off your skin, and skin melted right off your muscles. The only clear thing I could see was your eyes. Piercing blue, they reminded me of the ocean."

"Mom, I don't want to hear about what dad did for you… And I'm sure this guy doesn't either," Shepard fell asleep to the mother re-creating the scenery of the ocean and the son giving up his opinion on the matter in small gaps.

He wouldn't mind seeing the ocean again, on earth, on Rannoch, or another planet yet to be settled…

He wouldn't mind getting lost in the stars on a beach side paradise.

At least the mother wasn't being evil.

0N70

Standing up for the first time in months probably looked like standing up for the first time as a child. Shepard was all gangly limbs and skin, though his muscles were enhanced by the synthetics the old lady, Bethany Ann – an ex-alliance synthetics scientist, they hadn't kept the firmness that he'd had almost a year ago now. He had to lean on Garrett to maneuver around the house before being returned to bed for the son and mother to massage the muscles in his legs again.

For a month, he relearned how to walk. His legs were the first and foremost on the list of muscles to get working again. But Shepard was stubborn. During the times when they left the house to return to duty, as Garrett was part of the alliance as a training officer, – didn't that fit, and Bethany headed out to do whatever evil old women did, Shepard would do crunches and follow it up with as many push-ups as he could – which wasn't many.

After the first month, he was able to walk on his own with shaky feet and do three sets of twenty crunches along with three sets of ten pushups.

Wasn't his best, but he was working on it.

The second month had a lot of stretching. Garret ran with him in the mornings, constraining him to short distances, before he left for work. They would work on crunches, pushups, and pull-ups when the officer got home. He wasn't quite surprised that the man had good PT, not when he trained the new recruits that came into the Alliance. There seemed to be more entering now than before everything had happened.

It took Shepard six more month's for him to gain what he used to be, his body full and the muscles built. He felt healthy again; better than he had during the war.

Those synthetics were probably helping quite a bit.

But, those six months plus the year of lying in bed had caused problems. The Alliance no longer believed him to be alive.

"It's been more than a year since the end of the war and the destruction of the catalyst," on the holo before him was Admiral Steven Hackett, giving a speech to the public. Garrett sat off to the side, but Bethany was still at work. "The Citadel has been rebuilt and once again floats in the Serpentine Nebula. The search for the body of a legend has come to an end, without a single piece of evidence to show for all the work. There has been no sign of Commander John Shepard since the war, either dead or alive. We regret to inform that a good man has been lost- a good Soldier. He followed orders where he needed to, and used his own wit and mind for what he couldn't. He could talk anyone down, rile anyone up – he ended wars that had been century's old and created alliances between old enemies. He save the galaxy thrice, behind the scenes where no one could see him, where no one thought to look. He took steps that no one else would to ensure the safety of our galaxy. He was the first human spectre, setting the bar high and showing the citizens that had stepped into space before us what humans could do. He proved that we weren't to be messed with, and that we could help. Shepard was a good Commander, a good solder; but he was also an honest, courageous, just and terrifying man. If he was here today, he could do so much more." The admiral paused, his eyes lowering- a moment of silence- before he continue to speak. "He would have made an excelled admiral, but today I'm here to say that won't happen. The search for Commander John Shepard is closed. There are no more leads to follow, no more directions we can take, and no more sources we can use while rebuilding the damage that has occurred. The Alliance has sent me here to officially declare Commander John Shepard KIA."

He didn't listen to the rest of the feed. He was dead, that was it – in the eyes of the public, of the galaxy, he was gone. He knew this was going to happen. He leaned back on his elbows and rested his eyes on the ceiling.

What was he going to do now?

0N70

Two years of healing, two years of an old woman working on his body.

It felt like two years of death, except he was awake to witness it this time.

He was at a lost for what he was supposed to do now. There was no war to fight, o wars to end, no serious problems he needed to fix. It felt like his time in the military was to solve problems, big problems, and now there weren't any. He wasn't Commander John Shepard of the Alliance military anymore, so he couldn't just show up and ask if he could help. He was a civilian, he couldn't do anything without the proper credentials.

"Good people died, and the universe is less without them," Garrett had said after the Admirals speech had ended those few weeks ago. Shepard had agreed.

But he was still at a loss…

He sat at the dining table, reading the speech once more. It was like a dream or a nightmare. But his whole life had seemed like that. One problem to the next, a life full of problems.

He didn't hear Garrett enter the room that morning, but he felt him put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up through his long dark brown hair before he used a hand to get it out of the way.

"Come on Alec, let's get you some exercise," right, staring at the speech wasn't going to get him anywhere. He stood from the seat, already dressed in workout clothes as he'd been doing pull ups before his thoughts had got to him.

Alec was the name of Garrett's son, a child that had died in the war. It had hurt the man being reminded of his wife and son, but he'd agreed when his mother had suggested it. Shepard suspected that Garrett's son would have looked like him when he'd grown. He didn't argue with the name, just accepted it as a gift. After all, his own name wasn't his anymore – it belonged to a dead man.

He followed the man out the door on a run around town. They'd gotten further and further on a daily bases, and the synthetics made Shepard able to go further than any normal human being.

The organics were enhanced by the synthetics, yes, but they were still themselves. There was no change other than the organics becoming more durable, living longer than they once had. The synthetic material had been weaved into their being, blending with the organics.

The two of them stopped at the memorial park, taking a break. Shepard watched the recruiting station for a moment, wondering if he should rejoin. Could he start over? Did he even want to? Garrett seemed to read his mind.

"You've served once and survived a war; you've done your part. It's up to you if continuing is what you're meant to do." He could feel Garrett watching him. He knew the man had seen his eyes trail to a man and a woman who stood outside the building, two people he'd save the galaxy with. "Are you willing to relive those memories?"

Shepard shook his head and stood with a sigh.

"I don't think I could survive again…" he'd been given a chance to change, and he wondered if it was at the cost of his old life. Did he start again? Or walk up to Kaidan and Ashley; tell them he was still alive, that he'd survived? Would they be able to take it? Horizon flashed through his mind. He shook his head; he wasn't going to put them through that.

Garrett led them back home, keeping an eye on John, almost regretting taking the man to memorial park. The trip hadn't helped Shepard in the least.

0N70

"Alec?" The dark haired man looked up at the old lady as she stepped out onto the patio. "Garrett and I have been talking, and we've come up with an idea. You're a man who helps people, always needs to be helping people. I see it in your eyes. Earth still needs help putting itself back together," Shepard looked thoughtful for a moment.

Helping people could be what he needed to do. It was something to do at least. It was also something he was pretty good at.

"There is help wanted ad's, one's that are temporary and last only until the jobs finished. We put a list together for you," she said, holding out the tablet. Shepard flicked through it. "These people have needed help for a few years; maybe you could finally solve their problems."

Maybe he could, maybe he couldn't – but at least he wasn't sitting on his ass doing nothing.

0N70

Wiping sweat from his brow, John looked up at the house frame. This wasn't the first case of rebuilding on the list Bethany had given him - and it wasn't the last one he was working on either.

He had a small group of people helping out, a group of people that he'd gathered with the first rebuilding project. They were sometimes busy with other things, as they were often in contact with the military. Today thought, they were here too help.

"Hey Loco! Quit admiring the view and help me out!" John lifted an eyebrow at the N7 whose arms were holding up a beam.

"Doesn't look like you need it James," John said with hands on his hips and a raised brow.

"Yeah well, looked like you needed work. If you want to stand there looking pretty, be my guest. If you got the juevos to work though, offer still stands," the man said with a grunt, still holding the beam. The beam was part of a large wall that was going in on the southern side of the house. James was holding it up against its supports. John chuckled before making his way over and holding it up at the opposite end.

"If you don't hurry General, I doubt the boys are going to keep it standing much longer," a babe with long hair and shapely body said as she worked on putting windows in another wall.

"James looks like the only one with a problem, Captain. I think Anderson's gonna take a while to wear down," responded an equally as gorgeous man, fit with a whiskey rough voice.

Anderson was the last name of the family he lived with, a name that reminded him of the Admiral that had died by his side when the galaxy was falling to pieces. The man could have been the one to survive. If only he had been.

"Hey! He got a break! Of course he ain't run down yet!"

The three others laughed at the man's expense as they finished with the wall, followed by the rest of the home. When the building was finished and filled with furniture and a new family, the four stood before it.

"I think it came out looking pretty good," John said with a grin.

"They always seem to," Ashley, the Captain, said with a smile.

"Yeah," Kaidan agreed before turning to John. "Thanks for letting us help Anderson. If you need any more help rebuilding, you know where to find us."

"Thanks, General," John stuck out his hand and shook with the man followed by the others.

"Thank you, Anderson, for putting in the effort to help rebuild earth." The three turned and walked away. John smiled softly before turning and heading home.

0N70

The list was getting shorter.

There was only so much work someone could do in one place. He might have to start looking elsewhere to find things to do.

It was as he sat in the dining room of the old ladies house looking through the help needed for repair efforts ad's that he spotted the advertisement. There was a world the Alliance was working on colonizing, one that had been abandoned before the war. It was in Citadel and Alliance space, so it was under protection.

If he went there, he could leave the Anderson's back in what they had been. He had the credits now, with all the rebuilding efforts, and he'd be able to help the people on the new colony. Maybe work on building a new identity for himself while he was at it.

He thought on the idea as he worked through the rest of his list. When the last one was done, he sat in a cafe with the other three. They all notice he wasn't all there, and Vega was the one to finally point it out.

"Hey Loco, you lost in your own world?" John looked over at him before shaking his head.

"Just thinking Vega…"

"About what?"

John looked down, his fingers messing with the straw on his drink. "That last job was the end of my list…"

The three looked at each in confusion before asking.

"List?" he had Kaidan's attention now, his eyes lit with curiosity. John didn't answer for a moment, debating with himself on whether he should share with them. Eventually he decided to spill.  
"The list was the old ladies idea. She helped me pull myself back together after the war, literally. I felt useless, sort of lost on what to do when I was healed. I'm not going to linger on the past, but when you can't find a way forward… anyways, she gave me the list as a means to an end I suppose. If I was doing something I wasn't going to feel useless, or worse, feel depressed by what I couldn't do during the war. PTSD hasn't caught up with me yet, and I hope keeping active will keep it off."

"A lot of people were lost during the war, Anderson. Those who survive feel it when they lose friends, especially those who fought beside them… who died for them…" Kaidan seemed lost, hurt, as he spoke. He was remembering his time during the war, Shepard was sure of that. "The war catches up to all of us, it's just a matter of dealing with the consequences of choices that might or might not have been your own…"

"We can help you get somewhere else if you want to keep helping," Ashley said and the others agreed.

"Yeah Loco. You got us out and helping, the best we can do is help you," Vega said, John shook his head.

"There was an ad the other day," John said thoughtfully, "the Alliance is trying to re populate a world called Alanza. I think… I think starting over would help. There's plenty of people on new colonized worlds that need help. I can get there, I've got the funds now…" he said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

The others looked over at him thoughtfully, and John didn't bother to look too deep into it.

"Hope you continue to last as you are Loco, cause that's what the galaxy needs right now."

0N70

_It was time to part ways with the old, and begin anew._

**A/N: And that is the rewrite of the first chapter. I promise to try and at least get a child out a week. Hopefully. Think of how all the mothers just flinched at that! ANYWAYS! I do appreciate comments, annnnd if you see any punctuation, spelling, or grammer errors, don't be afraid to give me a heads up!**

**Odd'n'old Scrybbles**


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